


To Make The Season Bright

by ingberry



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, M/M, The Holiday AU, side Elena/Mithian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-10 16:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5593903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingberry/pseuds/ingberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin swaps houses with Morgana Pendragon over Christmas only to end up with a house guest that wasn't part of the deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Make The Season Bright

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moondustings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moondustings/gifts).



> Happy holidays, moondustings!  
> I tried my best to create something I thought you might like! For a while, I've thought that Merlin fandom really needed a The Holiday AU (and if there already is one I deeply apologise), so I hope you don't hate that movie on sight because that would probably be bad (eep). The fic doesn't really follow the plot of the movie at all, though, it just borrows the set up. I hope you like it and that you have a great holiday, as well as a great 2016!
> 
> Thanks to the mods for their eternal patience with my absolute ridiculousness. 
> 
> Also thanks to my very lovely betas, you guys are always life savers. Thanks to the people who have cheered me on!
> 
> (Title from The Christmas Song)

_It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas_ came through the tinny car speakers as Merlin pulled up into the driveway framed by tall trees on either side. 

It looked nothing like Christmas. 

The grass was a brownish green, the bright colours of autumn long since passed, and rain was trickling down the windshield. There were no glistening treetops or sleigh bells in the snow, and the only hint of the holidays was the relentless Christmas cheer on the radio.

Merlin was almost envious of his mum spending Christmas in Mallorca. But even in the dreary weather, the driveway was beautiful and he checked his GPS, even though he’d already checked twice. It was still the right address. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as the road opened up into a courtyard with a breath taking house towering above it. Gravel crunched under the tyres as he stopped and leaned forwards across the dashboard to get the full view. 

Calling it a house wasn’t entirely right. It was probably a manor, at least, or a mansion, but fuck if he even knew the difference. Regardless of which one it was, the stone building rose like a mountain from the ground, reminding him of every Austen novel he’d ever read. The only things that made the impression a little less intimidating were the tall, lit windows, and a twinkling Christmas tree on the front step. 

He huddled into his jacket as he stepped out of the car and got his bag out of the backseat. His little 2003 Golf looked ridiculous in front of the house. 

Escaping the rain, he hurried up the front steps and found the key inside the gingerbread house-shaped ornament on the tree as instructed. The key slipped in his hand as he let himself inside, and his hand shook when he punched in the numbers for the alarm. 

“ _My house is quite nice, I think you’ll like it,_ ” she’d said. 

He dropped his bag on the floor and sat down on a chair in the entrance hall, staring at the wide stairs leading upstairs, the open lounge beyond the hall, the high ceiling that seemed to never end.

Bloody _fuck_. 

And this poor girl was stuck in his tiny house back in Wales where the kitchen sink stopped working if it dropped below zero, and the bedroom was still covered in a pink floral wallpaper.

[***]

There were four large bedrooms, all with their own en-suite bathrooms. There was also a library, two large living rooms, a kitchen bigger than his entire house, and a gigantic garden with a pool that he thought was frankly unnecessary in England (when would you ever use an outdoor pool, really? During an invasion of water-hating aliens?)

Merlin stayed overwhelmed for exactly ten minutes before delirium swept in and he ran from room to room, skidding over the wooden floors in his woolly winter socks. The biggest bedroom was unbelievable. It had a four-poster bed so large he could probably fit his entire family and his friends, an enormous TV on the wall, and a walk-in closet the size of his living room. 

Behind the door was a panel of buttons with a remote attached. He grabbed the remote from its place and pushed a series of buttons just to test, jumping when music started blaring from speakers he hadn’t even noticed. Whatever he’d started was midway into _Jingle Bell Rock_ and he laughed wildly to himself. 

Holding onto one of the posts, he swung himself up on the bed and gave a little bounce, just to check what it felt like. He clambered to his feet, looking out onto the room he was staying in for the next two weeks. 

This Christmas had taken a turn for the absolutely fantastic. 

He started singing along, bouncing in time with the music and mashing some more buttons on the remote. Blinds started descending over the windows and he looked for the button to bring them up again, only managing to turn the music up to an ear-splitting volume. 

In an attempt to get the blinds back up, he also managed to dim the lights, turn the heat up and raise the back of the mattress into a sitting position. When he finally managed to get the blinds back up, he gave a triumphant, “aha!” only to nearly fall off the bed when a loud cough came from the doorway. 

Merlin stopped dead, one hand wrapped around the bedpost and the other gripping the remote. In the doorway stood the most hideously beautiful man Merlin had ever seen. This had to be a magic house. 

“You’re not Morgana.” The man’s voice was raised just enough to be audible over the loud music, stupidly gorgeous face unreadable. 

He was clutching a bag and his hair was slightly damp from the rain. 

“Uh.” Merlin waved the remote idly. “I’m Merlin.”

“I don’t care. Where’s Morgana?”

“Look,” Merlin said and fumbled with the remote, trying to get the volume down. The blinds descended again. “Oh, Jiminy Cricket… Why does this have eighty buttons? It’s like a bloody cockpit.”

The remote was ripped from his hand and with a few angry clicks, the music disappeared and the blinds went back up. 

“For fuck’s sake, have you never seen a remote?”

“Yeah, like, a normal poor-person remote. I have a laptop from like ‘95, and a TV left over from the war, not this futuristic Tardis shit.”

The bloke looked at him, unamused. “Mor _gana_.”

“I don’t know, man.” Merlin sat down on the bed, cross-legged. “Sorry if she’s double-booked, or something. I’m sure we can share if you want, it’s a freaking ridiculous house.”

“What are you _talking about_?”

“Wait, who are you?”

“Her brother. Arthur. The real question is who the fuck are you?”

Was it too late to fling himself out the window? It seemed like it could be feasible, possibly. If he acted fast… and somehow grew wings. 

“Oh. Well. She didn’t tell you?”

Arthur looked heavenward and dropped his bag to the floor with a thud. “Does it _look_ like she told me?”

“Jesus, lighten up, Scrooge,” Merlin said. “She’s at my house.”

Arthur just stood there, looking at Merlin like he was trying to force a different answer out of him. 

“I signed up for this house-swapping thing a couple of years ago. Was smashed out of my wits at the time, didn’t even remember until Morgana emailed me asking to switch. She didn’t tell me you’d be here, you know.”

“She didn’t really know,” Arthur said. 

“Why she’d want to swap beats the heck out of me. My house in Wales is a wreck compared to this.”

Arthur shrugged. “Same reason I came here.”

He said nothing more about it and Merlin didn’t ask. An awkward silence settled over the room and Merlin picked at the bed cover, trying to work out what to do. He was intruding now, but if Morgana was staying at his house, he didn’t really have anywhere to go. 

“Sorry about all this,” he said. “If I’d known you’d be here, I wouldn’t have come, obviously. Do you have your own key? If not, you can have the one Morgana left for me.”

He started digging in his pockets for it, but stopped when Arthur said, “No, that’s fine. You’re more invited than I am. Like you said, it’s a big house, right?” 

“So, you’re saying we should both stay?”

“If you don’t care, I don’t care.”

“Sure. I don’t care.”

Arthur picked his bag up from the floor and nodded before he left, not saying another word. Merlin sunk back onto the bed, flopping his arms to the side and wishing himself a hole in the ground.

[***]

Merlin cared.

If the world would only grant him a time-machine so he could go back to two days ago to say, “Yeah, I care that we’re both here because it’s awkward and weird and I’ll find a hotel, have a great Christmas.” 

He might not have cared when they spent five silent minutes in the kitchen while Arthur finished his dishes and Merlin made his tea. And he might not have cared when Arthur turned around in the doorway to the library when he found Merlin there. 

But he cared now, when Arthur was wearing nothing but low-riding jogging bottoms in the kitchen like he didn’t even know how he looked. The muscles in his back worked as he buttered his scone, the broad expanse of it visible in full detail in the light from the window. His frame narrowed from his wide shoulders to his hips, and Merlin wanted to bounce things off his perfect arse. 

Merlin had not signed up for this. 

It was one thing to share a huge house with a stranger, but it was another thing entirely to lust after this bloke like he was a horny, virginal fifteen year old again. He was _better_ than this. He hadn’t been rendered useless by a pretty face in years. 

Arthur suddenly turned around and leant back against the counter as he took a bite of his scone. Their eyes met just as Merlin had managed to take in the sight of Arthur’s hip bones jutting out above the waist of his jogging bottoms. 

“Er, hi,” Merlin said quickly. “Thought you were in your room.”

He cringed at how it came out and headed for the fridge, breaking eye-contact with Arthur. 

“We can be in the same rooms, you know that, right?” Arthur said, his voice a little gruff. 

“You getting a cold?” Merlin asked, choosing to ignore the topic of their living arrangement. 

Arthur hummed. “Seems like it.”

“Typical for this time of year, isn’t it?”

“Suppose so.”

Merlin fumbled for something-- _anything_ \--to get from the fridge so he could escape the horrifyingly stilted conversation. 

“Drink plenty of tea,” Merlin said, finally settling on a banana out of pure desperation, and practically ran out of the room. 

God, still twelve days left until he could go home where there were no terrible conversations and no half-naked men wandering about his kitchen. 

Okay, he could deal with that last bit, as long as they were there for a whole other reason.

But still.

[***]

In the end, it was the crackling fire that brought them together. Merlin mostly managed to avoid Arthur for another day, save for a couple of awkward meetings in the hallway, but when he found that Arthur had lit up the fireplace, he was unable to resist.

Arthur was slung in a chair, his legs hooked over the armrest as he read. He was chewing on his thumbnail, eyes glued to the book as Merlin entered the living room. His hair looked golden in the light from the fire and Merlin’s life was, overall, quite unfair. 

It was warm, though, and the other armchair looked too tempting. Merlin slid into it, curling up with the book he’d brought from home. 

Arthur had the radio on and Merlin could barely make out the low sounds of _Winter Wonderland_. A feeling of Christmas that Merlin hadn’t really felt this year at all descended over him in the warmth of the fire. He hadn’t thought he’d get any of that Christmas feeling at all, not with his mum in Mallorca and all the plans with Freya down the drain. 

He stole glances at Arthur’s profile when the book could no longer hold his attention. Arthur was running his thumb back and forth against his jaw, his brows knitted in an expression of complete focus. 

It was weird that Arthur was here, wasn’t it? Didn’t Arthur have his own place?

“Are you staying here for Christmas?” Merlin asked, and Arthur jumped a little, turning to look at Merlin. 

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“I mean Christmas Eve. Christmas Day. Boxing day, even.”

“Yeah.”

Merlin paused and made to speak, but thought better of it and peered down at his book. He tried to read a few lines, but when he repeated them for the fourth time, he closed the book with his thumb marking his spot. 

“So there’s nowhere you’ve got to be? No plans?”

“That excited to get rid of me, are you, Merlin?” Arthur said without looking up. 

“No, not really, just… bit weird, isn’t it? Morgana taking off without telling her own brother, and you being here with a complete stranger.”

Arthur stopped reading but didn’t look up. For a moment, Merlin thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he said, “Not all families have loving, straight-out-of-films Christmas traditions.”

“Alright, yeah. That’s fair.”

Merlin thought of his mum’s living room decorated for Christmas and felt a small pang of regret that he’d pushed her to take her holiday. 

“Our father and step-mother are a nightmare. If you knew them, you’d swap houses with strangers out of desperation too.”

Looking up in surprise, Merlin let out a burst of laughter before he quickly cut it off, a bit mortified. Arthur met his eyes and gave a half-smile. 

“Words really can’t describe. If they show up here looking for me, tell them you think I’m in Morocco.”

“Can I say Italy instead?”

“God, no, they have a vacation house in Tuscany.”

“Of course.”

For a moment the only sounds were the crackling from the fire and Arthur turning a page. Then Arthur looked up, and said, “What about you, then? Doesn’t seem that great to spend Christmas in an empty house with a stranger for you either, does it?”

“Last minute change of plans. Didn’t really have much else to do.”

Arthur hummed. “Guess it’s just us, then.”

“Guess so.”

[***]

Morgana’s estate was surprisingly quiet and private. It was only a ten minute drive out of town, but her next-door neighbours were all hidden beyond a cluster of trees on either side. The grounds themselves weren’t as large as Merlin might have expected. He walked the rounds of them fairly quickly, and ended up making several laps. He should probably take a drive into town, just to get out of the house a bit.

As relaxing as it was to spread himself out on one of Morgana’s amazing sofas or curl up in an armchair in the library, he was getting a bit of cabin fever, coupled with a bit of Arthur-related overexposure. 

The weather had changed, no longer wet and mild. The grass crunched under his feet and the air was crisper. It stung a bit against his cheeks, just enough to feel like winter after all. 

After his third lap around the grounds, he headed back up to the house and slipped in through the main entrance. His face felt even colder in the heat inside and he shivered as he hung up his jacket. 

Not for the first time, he wondered how Morgana was doing back in Wales. He rather imagined she’d escaped long ago and taken off for the nearest spa hotel. If his house hadn’t sent her screaming, his neighbour Gwaine sure as hell must have. He didn’t really know what he’d been thinking – inflicting Gwaine on some poor, unsuspecting person. 

The need for a cuppa called him into the kitchen as he contemplated calling Gwaine to get the scoop on Morgana. His plans disappeared when he found Arthur sitting on the bar stool by the kitchen island, a large box of pizza open in front of him. He had one slice folded over in his hand, leaning in to take a bite.

It was slightly weird watching someone eat pizza, wasn’t it? 

Arthur licked the tip of his fingers and Merlin almost turned around to creep out of there unseen, but then Arthur noticed him and it was much too late to slink away. Nodding his head in greeting, Arthur nudged the closest stool with his foot in invitation. 

They sat in silence for a moment, Merlin taking a slice from the open box. The sound of their chewing was too loud in the kitchen. 

“So, how do you think Morgana is doing?” 

Arthur’s lips quirked at the corner as he wiped his hand on a napkin. “She doesn’t back down from a challenge.”

“You actually think she’s still there? My house is probably the size of her living room alone.”

“Morgana is used to her luxuries, but she hasn’t always lived like this.” Arthur paused. “Plus, she’s bloody stubborn.”

Merlin hummed, unconvinced. “My neighbour Gwaine has probably eaten her alive.”

Arthur gave a startled laugh. “I’d be more worried about your neighbour.”

“Are you just saying this to make me feel better?”

“Wouldn’t dream of trying to make you feel better.”

Merlin made a face at him. “So you haven’t talked to her at all?”

“No.” Arthur shrugged. “I figured she went away for a reason.”

Eyebrows raised, Merlin said nothing, and helped himself to another slice instead. 

“That probably sounds bad,” Arthur said. “We’ve both done our disappearing acts before. She’s fine.”

It was difficult for Merlin to imagine taking off without telling anyone at all, or to not check up on someone if they’d disappeared without a word. He looked at Arthur for a moment, wondering what drove him and Morgana to repeatedly escape from their lives. 

“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” he blurted, before he asked something he shouldn’t. “Maybe we should do something. Get a Christmas tree, at least.”

“I don’t know.” Arthur shifted in his seat. “Would be weird, right? Seems pointless to try to fake some perfect family Christmas.”

Merlin blinked. “Did I say I wanted a perfect family Christmas?” 

“No, but you know. It just seems kind of forced?”

“I’m not saying we should exchange gifts, but might be nice to at least have a proper dinner on Christmas day. ”

“I might go to some friends’ place in London,” Arthur said and slid off his stool. “I wasn’t going to, but they’re sort of relentless about it. And it’ll give you some privacy. If you want something to do, there’s the market in town that’s quite nice. They have a ridiculous Christmas panto as well.”

Merlin watched him go, feeling like a complete eejit.

[***]

The Christmas market took up most of the town square and was buzzing with life even on Christmas Eve. Merlin had thought most people would be home with their families this late, but it seemed that plenty of people were in town to do their last minute shopping.

He passed from stall to stall, picking up some snacks, a few good cheeses and a pack of biscuits. If he wasn’t having a turkey dinner, he’d at least have something special. The homemade fudge stall played _Winter Wonderland_ as he passed, and he stopped for a moment. 

Having his attempt at Christmas celebrations rejected by Arthur was, surprisingly, bothering him. He couldn’t even quite figure out why: he’d been prepared to celebrate alone all along, after all. But the closer it got to Christmas and the further he made it into the market, the weirder he felt about not doing anything to celebrate. 

He should’ve been in Ealdor right now in his mum’s tiny kitchen, watching her prepare tomorrow’s turkey dinner while she wondered out loud if Uncle Gaius would remember Christmas this year and show up. 

But it was only for this year. Next year, everything would be back to normal. He could be alone for Christmas just once, he wasn’t _that_ pathetic. 

He passed by a group of carollers on his way out of the market and at that moment, a little flutter of Christmas spirit spread through his chest.

[***]

Merlin nearly dropped all his bags when the sounds of _The Christmas Song_ greeted him in the entrance hall. He stood in place, confused, for a brief moment before he followed the sound into the living room.

He sank down into the nearest armchair, not even taking off his coat. 

“Hello!” Arthur said, cheery in an alien sort of way. 

“Uh. Hi?”

Next to the fireplace was a fir tree, nicely shaped with just enough imperfections to look entirely real. Arthur hung a blue bauble onto one of the branches, stepping back to consider his handiwork. It already had the lights on, and a handful of baubles at the top. 

“I was hoping I’d be done when you got back,” Arthur said and nudged the box of ornaments towards Merlin. “Wanna help?”

“What on earth’s gotten into you?” 

Arthur shrugged and stepped around a box of ornaments. 

“I thought about what you said yesterday and, you know, the trip into London seems pointless. We can have Christmas here.“ Arthur didn’t look at him. “I didn’t have time to buy turkey, though.”

“What about your friends?”

“They’ll be fine. I wasn’t gonna go originally, anyway.”

Merlin looked at him, eyebrows pulled together. He didn’t quite know what he was looking for, but there was something off about Arthur.

“Arthur. Did you feel bad?” Merlin couldn’t hide an amused smile.

Arthur’s ears turned red and he dove behind the tree, fiddling with something. 

“Sod off.”

“You did. You felt _bad_.”

“It’s just more practical, is all. Inflated ego much, Merlin?” 

“Sure.”

Merlin grinned stupidly. He finally dropped the bags to either side of the chair and pulled his coat off, still grinning when Arthur resurfaced from behind the tree. He scowled. 

“Stop grinning, Merlin, you look ridiculous.”

Merlin didn’t quite know how to stop. “I got you a present at the market,” he said and reached into one of his bags.

When he looked back up, Arthur was paused with a bauble dangling from his fingertip. 

“I didn’t get you anything.”

“You got the tree, didn’t you? Besides, this is nothing, really.” Merlin handed over the bottle of wine he’d agonised about for twenty minutes, eventually having to return to the stall twice before he decided to get it. 

Arthur hung the ornament on a nearby branch before he took it and tipped it back to look at the label. “Oh, this is quite nice. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” 

“Now that’s a factually incorrect statement, Merlin. You shouldn’t be so careless with your words.”

“You shouldn’t be so careless with your _face_.”

Arthur threw his head back with a startled laugh, drawing all Merlin’s attention to his neck. 

“Such sophistication.”

Huffing, Merlin bent over a box and picked up a golden bauble to hang on the tree. “Your face is sophisticated.”

When he turned around, Arthur was bracing himself on the back of the armchair, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Merlin’s cheeks went pink and he waved vaguely towards the bottle of wine. 

“I need a drink.”

As Arthur disappeared, presumably, to find two glasses for the wine, Merlin sank down onto the sofa and stared at the Christmas tree like it could give him all the answers for Arthur’s sudden turn-around. And for why he felt so incredibly flustered by it. He picked his phone from the pocket of his jeans and considered calling his mum even though she’d already called him this morning. 

“Here,” Arthur said as he sat down next to him. 

Merlin accepted the glass and took a sip immediately. 

“This isn’t so different from Christmas at home, really,” he said. “Just, you know, at home there would be a smaller tree and a slightly cheaper couch, and you’d be my mum.”

Arthur looked at him with raised eyebrows. “A slight difference there, then.”

“Only a wee one.”

“Well. I’m sorry I’m not quite up to taking your mum’s place for Christmas.”

“That’s OK, you have other skills and attributes.”

Arthur shook his head, amused. 

“And I’m sorry I’m a poor substitute for Morgana,” Merlin said, and swirled his wine around in the glass. 

“Are you kidding? That’s a blessing more than anything.”

“Don’t be crass, she’s your sister.”

“If you can’t say it about family, who can you?”

“I don’t know, your enemies?”

Arthur shrugged. “She lets me hear it too. It’s good for us.”

Nodding, Merlin took a sip and sank lower into the sofa. “Thanks for the tree.”

“It was nothing.”

Merlin smiled. “Now, Arthur, that’s a factually incorrect statement.”

“Your face is factually incorrect.”

Bursting into laughter, Merlin nearly spilled his wine everywhere and Arthur looked terribly pleased with himself, a proud smile plastered across his face. He looked soft in the light from the fireplace, and the stupid smile made him look different. Attractive in a way that wasn’t just looks, but something else too—something genuine and silly and overwhelming. 

Merlin realised he’d been staring at Arthur for too long, the continued silence making too much room for all the things they hadn’t talked about, all the things they’d ignored in the past few days. 

Meeting Arthur’s eyes, Merlin’s stomach made a sharp jolt and he pursed his lips, hand going clammy against his jeans. He couldn’t be reading that look wrong. Merlin knew that look full of intent and anticipation. Taking a deep breath, he parted his lips and Arthur’s gaze followed immediately. Merlin’s heart hammered in his chest, the feeling of Arthur’s eyes on his mouth tingling on his lips. 

Arthur looked him in the eyes again and touched his hand to Merlin’s jaw, leaning in just slightly. Merlin’s eyes fell shut, Arthur’s hand hot on his skin. 

There was a loud bang followed by “Merry Christmas!” yelled by several discordant voices. 

They sprang apart and stared at each other with wide eyes. 

“Arthur? Morgana?”

A woman appeared in the living room, carrying a large box. Her hair was pulled up into messy bun and she had sparkly, golden make up on. Several curious faces appeared behind her.

“Mithian?” Arthur stared at her. “I said I wasn’t coming to London today.”

“So we came here!” she said, her enthusiasm cracking a bit at the edges. “Although, you didn’t tell us you were having a hot date.”

“It’s not a hot date,” Arthur said. 

The others looked at each other, exchanging a number of confused and meaningful looks. 

“It’s not,” Merlin added. “I swapped houses with Morgana.”

“Morgana’s not here?” A blond woman said, her arms full of tinsel. 

“No, she’s at my house. In Wales.”

“Oh dear.”

“Wow, I’d probably pay money to see that,” said one of the blokes. 

“Ok.” Mithian tried to shift her grip on the box. “This is a little awkward. We just came here to—“

“—make Christmas for me and Morgana. Don’t you think I know you by now, Mithian?” 

She smiled and shrugged. “I make the parties happen. What can I say?”

“My best party girl.” The blonde woman grinned. 

“We should probably leave them alone, don’t you think?” said another woman near the back of the pack. 

Merlin and Arthur looked at each other, Arthur’s eyebrows doing some sort of strange communication dance that Merlin didn’t know him well enough to follow. 

“No, stay,” Merlin said, taking the decision for himself without bothering to read Arthur’s many eyebrow-clues. “There’s plenty of room and we didn’t have much of a Christmas planned, really. Although, Arthur did get me the tree.”

“He got you the tree.”

“Well, not _me_. Just, he got it.” Merlin took a sip of wine and looked away, cheeks hot. 

“Well, we have turkey?” Mithian said and nodded towards a large man with a box. 

“Fantastic! Please stay.”

[***]

Arthur’s friends had brought enough stuff to deck out at least half of Morgana’s house and a turkey larger than Merlin had ever seen. He didn’t quite understand how it’d fit in the oven.

After a round of introductions, Mithian and her girlfriend Elena took to decorating the house, Percy and Elyan helped Arthur finish the tree, and Gwen and Lance pulled Merlin with them into the kitchen. He was set to help prepare tomorrow’s dinner, of which Lance was apparently the mastermind. 

“I’m sorry we just came barging in,” Gwen said as she raided Morgana’s kitchen for the things they’d need. “We’re all a bit weird about Arthur and Morgana, I suppose. Especially around Christmas.”

“It’s fine. Arthur has done nothing but barge in since I got here, I’m used to it.”

Gwen laughed. “How’s that been working out for you guys?”

“Really weird at first. But he’s an all right housemate. Shares his pizza.”

“Oh, I brought the makings of a Christmas pudding,” Gwen said. “Do you want to help me make one for tomorrow? No Christmas without Christmas pudding, right?”

“Well, certainly not in my house.”

Gwen fetched her ingredients from a bag and Merlin found some baking bowls, a spoon and a spatula. 

“I have a family recipe that always works, unless you have one you want to use,” Gwen said. 

“Ah, no. I’m afraid my mum makes the Christmas pudding.”

“You should get that recipe while you can,” she said, pointing the spatula at it. “Learn from my mistakes.”

“Noted.”

“How do you guys know Arthur and Morgana?” Merlin asked as they began cooking. 

“Oh, well, some of us grew up together, and some of us from uni. Elyan and I have known them since we were kids, but the rest of us all met later on.”

“Did you guys study the same thing?”

“No, not at all, really. Arthur and Lance played footie together, and I met Elena through someone else. Percy took a class with Elyan, and Mithian worked at the pub on weekends for extra cash.”

“I don’t even know anything about Arthur,” Merlin said, and stirred the contents of the bowl. “Well, I know some things, obviously. But considering I’ve been sharing a house with him for days… Although, I’m not surprised he plays footie.”

Gwen laughed. “I’ll fill you in on all the dirty secrets, don’t worry.”

[***]

“What has Gwen been saying about me?” Arthur said close to his ear. Merlin flailed, nearly hitting him in the face.

Arthur laughed as Merlin turned around and punched him on the arm. 

“She’s been very generous with information, actually.”

“It’s all lies.”

Merlin hummed, giving Arthur a considering look. “That’s a shame.”

Arthur’s attempts to look annoyed failed quite fast, and he just smiled and waggled his eyebrows at Merlin. 

“Mithian and Elena have finished Christmas-bombing the house with tinsel, so they’re setting up board games in the living room. Come on.”

He motioned for Merlin to follow him and left. Merlin stood still for a moment, listening to the others talking in a low hum. It was ridiculous how different it was to simply co-exist with Arthur in the house, compared to having the full weight of his attention. Merlin was almost glad he had a room full of people to lean on. 

In the living room, the table was already set up for a game of Taboo and everyone else was seated already. 

“You’re on our team!” Elena beamed and waved him over. 

She handed him a steaming mug of cocoa as he sat down on the floor between Elena and Arthur. He crossed his legs and wrapped his hands around the mug, peering around as Mithian and Elyan argued about who was explaining words first. Gwen was looking at them both with intense exasperation. 

Merlin took a sip of his cocoa and nearly choked on it, unprepared for the sharp sting of alcohol at the back of his throat. Arthur snorted.

“You the one spiking my chocolaty drinks?” Merlin asked, taking another sip. 

Arthur held up his mug in a silent cheers. “We’re all in it together.”

Merlin and Arthur turned out to be brilliant at Taboo. Mithian swore they were cheating, while Gwen was putting her money on a psychic connection. Arthur declared that they were just really fucking talented in general, extending to any and all areas of life. 

This was thoroughly debunked when they suffered a crushing loss at Pictionary. Arthur blamed that one on Merlin and Merlin accidentally stepped on his hand when he went to refill his cocoa. 

They had a return to form during Balderdash, though, so Merlin counted it as a win.

[***]

“Lance brought Christmas crackers!” Elena said, eliciting scattered cheers. “What a hero. What a man.”

“Always prepared.” Percy saluted him.

Merlin barely caught the one Elena threw in his and Arthur’s direction, only narrowly missing his glass of wine. He was full to the brim after dinner and Christmas pudding, and he was bundled up in a perfect Christmas jumper he’d been given as a present. He couldn’t at all figure out how they’d magicked up a present for him, but he was beyond pleased about it. So he felt generally charitable, but not charitable enough to have Arthur come out a winner in the cracker duel. 

“Alright, everyone, get ready,” said Elyan, and Merlin tightened the grip on his end, giving Arthur his most fearsome stare. 

Arthur stared back, eyes narrowed and focused. He mouthed something Merlin couldn’t catch, but he assumed it was something entirely stupid. 

On the count of three, Merlin pulled with all his might, but found himself stuck with only the end-bit as Arthur threw his hands up over his head in victory. 

“Sod off, you cheat,” Merlin said, dropping what was left of the cracker. 

“How do you cheat at Christmas crackers?” Arthur said as he opened his winnings. “Oh god, it’s one of these things.”

Merlin leaned in to see. “Oh, the fortune teller fish! I love those!”

“You can have it.”

“No, no. I wanna see what your future holds, Arthur. This is incredibly important. Ghost of Christmas yet to come.”

Arthur rolled his eyes as he opened the plastic and took out the little red fish. “Here, you hold the card then and read me my fortune.”

Merlin held the card as Arthur placed the fish in his own palm and waited. After a second, it started moving ever so slightly. 

“It’s moving its head,” Arthur said. 

“Oh, that means jealousy, I think.”

“No wait, the tail too. Both the head and the tail is moving.”

“That means… oh, ‘in love’,” Merlin read from the card and looked up, palms getting clammy. 

Arthur looked down at the paper fish, head cocked to the side. “Well, then. Is that like a future prediction? Or is it just a general observation?”

“Lord knows,” Merlin said, reaching out to grab the abandoned slip of paper from the cracker. “Let’s read the joke!”

“Do we have to?”

“Do you hate Christmas?”

“Carry on, then.”

“ _What do you call a short sighted dinosaur?_ ”

“I shouldn’t have let you read this.”

“A do-you-think-he-saw-us!”

“Kill it with fire.” Arthur ripped the note out of his hand and threw it over his shoulder as Merlin laughed. 

“Oh god, listen to this one guys,” Mithian said, and read the joke from their cracker to loud groans from the table. 

Arthur rested his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands. “Please make it stop.”

“ _Why was Santa’s little helper feeling depressed?_ ” Elena read. 

“I don’t know if Santa wants us to answer that,” said Percy, and Gwen slapped him, yelping indignantly. 

“Did Santa get a new favourite?”

“He got kicked out of Santa’s bed.”

“He found out Santa has a tiny dick.”

“I hate _all of you_ ,” Gwen said and slumped in her seat as Lance wiped tears from his eyes. 

“You all need help,” Elena said. “And for your information, he had low elf-esteem. You insensitive dingbats.”

Arthur looked at Merlin and whispered, “Kill me.”

[***]

“How much spiked cocoa have you had to drink?” Merlin whispered as Arthur pulled him along at what seemed to be breakneck speed.

“It might snow!”

“But it’s not.”

“But it might,” Arthur said and opened the door Merlin hadn’t realised they’d reached. It led to the balcony outside the library, the one with the view Merlin had admired since the first day. 

It was cold and crisp outside, and Arthur was right – maybe it would snow. The air stung against Merlin’s heated cheeks. 

“Arthur, it’s cold.”

“See. When it’s cold, it snows.”

“Flawless logic.”

“I’m always flawless.” Arthur flipped his hair dramatically, and Merlin laughed, too much for such a stupid thing. But then Arthur himself was a stupid thing. 

Their breath came out in curls of frost and Merlin watched it fill the air in front of him. 

“You’re a magician,” Arthur said. 

“Yeah, quite. It’s my life’s calling.”

They spent a few moments way too caught up in breathing into the darkness before Merlin said, “I like your friends.”

“Pretty sure they’re your friends too, now. They’re not that easy to get rid of.”

Merlin couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face, threatening to take over everything in the world. He’d never been one with a large circle of friends, and the thought of them all in the living room, of maybe spending Christmas with them again next year, made his chest burst. 

Arthur was looking at him, a dazed look on his face, and Merlin just kept smiling, digging his hands into his jeans for warmth. 

And then Arthur darted in and pressed his lips to Merlin’s, catching more teeth than anything else. 

“Stop smiling,” Arthur grumbled, hands cupping Merlin’s face. “You’re making this a lot harder than it has to be.”

Merlin waggled his eyebrows. “ _Harder_.”

“Oh god, you’re drunk.”

Merlin kissed him, moved his hands from his jean pockets and fisted them into Arthur’s jumper. Arthur pressed closer, opening his lips under Merlin’s mouth. His tongue was hot, a sharp contrast to the biting chill in the air. It was dizzyingly fantastic to kiss Arthur. Fucking should have been doing this all along. 

Arthur’s hand slid into his hair, cupping the back of his head as he took control of the kiss, hot mouth sliding over Merlin’s like he knew exactly what made Merlin’s back shiver. Merlin slid his hands around Arthur’s waist and down, finally slipping them into the back pockets of Arthur’s jeans. 

Arthur laughed into the kiss, his bum flexing under Merlin’s fingers. 

“Cheeky”, he muttered and Merlin just nipped at his bottom lip in answer, pressing his hands to Arthur’s arse to pull him closer.

[***]

“But how will you live without a library?”

“Well, I’ve survived my entire life without one, so I think I’ll be fine.”

“What about the kitchen? How will you cope?”

“Are you saying I should organise a hostile takeover of Morgana’s house?”

Arthur put Merlin’s bag down by the car. “It’s a big house, I’m sure you could figure something out.”

“I think I better stick to the deal, Arthur.”

“Fine, fine. I’m sure the house will miss you, though. Even though you can’t click the right button for anything.”

“I’m sure it will.”

The snow had finally arrived around New Year’s and there was a fine layer of it in the courtyard in front of the house. It also covered the windshield of his car, so he pulled the cuff of his jacket over his hand and worked to brush it off, leaning across it with effort. 

“Hey, call me when you get back safely?” Arthur said, nudging his shoulder when he’d gotten the worst of the snow off. 

“Of course. And you call me. Whenever.”

Arthur smiled and leaned in for a kiss, only to jump a mile when a car horn honked. A shiny red Audi pulled up behind them and out of the driver’s side door climbed a long-legged, black-haired woman with a stunning face. 

“Of-bloody-course you’d shag him, Arthur. I should have warned him about you.”

Merlin hid his laughter behind a cough as Arthur put up an innocent front. 

“What would’ve been the fun in that?”

“You have no shame, Arthur Pendragon.” She came up to them and held her hand out to Merlin. “Pleasure borrowing your house for a while, it was exactly what I needed.”

“I figured you’d probably run screaming for the hills after a day.”

“Oh, I wanted to kill myself half a day in, but I worked it out. Wasn’t about to give up that easily.”

“Well, thanks so much for letting me stay here. Hopefully, I haven’t ruined anything priceless.”

“You mean, except Arthur?”

Merlin laughed, but Arthur’s rebuttal was cut off by an arm curling around Morgana’s waist and the appearance of a very familiar self-satisfied face grinning from ear to ear. 

“Gwaine.” Merlin groaned, shielding his eyes with his hand. 

“Oh, you’re one to talk!” Arthur said, pointing at his sister, voice raised. “Shameless!”

Merlin turned around and put his bag in the car, slipping into the driver’s side. He waved at them as they continued to bicker, both of them too preoccupied to do much but wave distractedly at him. 

Gwaine beamed. He mouthed, “thank you,” and Merlin gave him the finger. 

The trees of the driveway were covered in a light dusting of snow this time and it looked even nicer than it had when he arrived. A little touch of a winter wonderland even if it was too late for Christmas. 

He’d reached the end of the driveway when his phone buzzed in his pocket and he fumbled for it, nearly dropping it between the seats in the process. 

“Hi,” he said, a little breathless. 

“Too soon to call?”

A smile spread slowly across his face and he put the phone on speaker, resting it on a little shelf under his busted radio. 

“No. Perfect timing.”

Merlin swung out on the road and sped away from Morgana’s estate, and towards home; his house with the broken sink and the pink floral wallpaper. 

“Good. So, are you there yet?”


End file.
